Say You're Sorry (Morgan Dane Book 1)

by Melinda Leigh

  “I’m so sorry.” Morgan had no other words to express her sympathy. She understood sorrow too well, but losing a child took the Palmers to a place she couldn’t even contemplate without risking a panic attack.

  Mr. Palmer shot Morgan a glare she felt right into the pit of her stomach. Her French toast flipped over.

  Mrs. Palmer drew up, her face an angry mask. “How could you do this to Tessa?”

  “You’re a disgrace.” Mr. Palmer took his wife’s elbow and steered her toward the diner. As they passed, he spit on Morgan’s shoe.

  Morgan flinched as if he’d hit her. Lance moved to step in front of her, but Morgan put a hand on his forearm and held him back. “Leave them be.”

  “He had no right to do that.”

  “They’re grieving, and they think I’m defending their granddaughter’s killer.” Morgan took a tissue out of her purse, stooped, and wiped her shoe. She couldn’t hold the Palmers’ reactions against them. She understood the raw, overwhelming nature of grief too well. “I don’t know how I would react if I ran into the defense attorney who represented the men responsible for John’s death or my father’s killer.”

  She tossed the tissue into a garbage can.

  Lance unlocked the Jeep, and they got in. She could still feel the Palmers’ wrath. Looking up, she saw them through the plate glass window. Mrs. Palmer was staring right at her.

  “The only thing I can do for them is find the man who really killed Tessa.” Morgan blinked away from the old woman’s glare. “Ready to get back to work?”

  “You bet.” Lance backed out of the parking spot.

  Morgan opened her purse, found a roll of antacids, and chewed two. The encounter with the Palmers had left her with indigestion. “We should talk to Voss’s wife.”

  Lance turned the Jeep around. “An excellent idea. There is no better source than a soon-to-be ex.”

  “Wives usually know if their husbands are straying.” But would she have known if her husband was a killer?

  Lance’s phone rang. He stopped the Jeep and answered the call. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “That was Carl,” Lance set his phone on the console. “Dean Voss escaped from the hospital.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Lance shifted into drive. He locked the doors. The thought of Voss running loose made Lance want to put Morgan on a plane to Australia.

  “No!” Morgan turned to stare at him. “How did Voss escape?”

  “He slipped out of his restraints, knocked out an orderly, and stole his uniform and ID. The man might be insane, but he’s very intelligent.” Lance drove onto the road.

  “Did he escape before or after his booby trap went off?” Morgan asked.

  “Just after. He must have set it before he shot at us at the lake.”

  “Where do you think Voss will go?”

  “Since he set his own place to self-destruct, I’d bet either to his wife or to hide in the woods. In case he picks his wife, we’d better catch up with Mrs. Voss before he does.”

  Mrs. Voss wasn’t at home, nor was she at the bank branch where she worked as the assistant manager. The branch manager told them she’d just left. Lance saw no sign of Voss at either location. If everyone was lucky, he’d head for the wilderness to hole up.

  “Is she afraid of her husband?” Morgan asked. “If I’d just filed for divorce from a violent and unstable man who just escaped from the psych ward, I’d go into hiding.”

  Lance called his mother and asked her to research Mrs. Voss’s family and friends. Then he turned to Morgan. “Where to now?”

  The meal had improved her color, until they’d run into the Palmers. He understood that Tessa’s grandparents were grieving, but that didn’t mean he liked them lashing out at Morgan.

  “Would you mind stopping at my house? Ava stayed home sick today. I’d like to check on her, and Felicity doesn’t get out of school for another hour.”

  “Of course.” Ten minutes later, Lance parked in the Dane driveway. Inside the house, Ava greeted Morgan with a big hug and smile.

  “She’s much better,” Grandpa said from his recliner.

  Morgan lifted her daughter’s chin. “Back to school tomorrow.”

  Ava nodded. “Grandpa got me a milkshake at McDonald’s.”

  “That sounds yummy,” Morgan said. “I have to run to my room for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  After her mother left the room, Ava’s gaze landed on Lance. “What happened to your arm?”

  He glanced down. He’d lost a Band-Aid. “Just a scratch.”

  “Does it hurt?” Ava asked.

  “Just a little,” Lance said.

  “You need a Band-Aid.”

  Lance pretended not to melt when she took him by the hand and tugged him into the kitchen.

  She pointed at an upper cabinet. “The box is up there.”

  He opened the cabinet and took down a white box with a red cross on the top. He handed it to her.

  “You sit here.” She steered him to a chair, set the box on the table, and opened it. Then she carefully selected a pink princess bandage and applied it to his arm. Leaning over, she kissed the bandage. “All better.”

  Lance felt his heart crack wide open. Some tough guy he was.

  “I have to go play with Gianna.” She jumped off the chair.

  “Thanks, Ava,” Lance called as the child skipped out of the kitchen, nearly colliding with Morgan as she walked in.

  “I have to go. Love you, baby,” Morgan called after her daughter.

  Morgan led the way out of the house, stopping to say good-bye to her grandfather on the way out.

  As she reached for the Jeep’s door handle, Lance spotted a suspicious bulge just below her right kidney. “Is that your gun?”

  “Yes.” She’d added a belt to her slacks, no doubt to accommodate her holster. “You can see it?”

  “Just when your jacket tightened.” He’d known she had a weapon but had never seen her armed.

  She adjusted the holster. “I haven’t carried in a very long time. I’ve only taken my gun out for the occasional trip to the range.”

  “Do you practice regularly?”

  She laughed. “As if Grandpa would allow me not to.” They settled into the front seats of the vehicle. “Felicity doesn’t live far from here.” Morgan gave him the address and Lance drove out of the neighborhood.

  The Webers lived in a Cape Cod-style house. The blue-gray clapboards, white trim, and black shutters were freshly painted. A white picket fence enclosed a front yard full of lush grass. Lance parked at the curb, and they went to the door. Felicity opened the door before they knocked. Her long blonde hair fell in a long braid down the center of her back.

  “Come on in.” Felicity stepped back.

  The front door opened directly into the living room. Felicity led them straight through to a small, tidy kitchen. Behind it, a screened porch looked onto a tiny yard of well-kept grass. They went through the French doors onto the porch. Felicity sat in an Adirondack chair and hugged her knees. Morgan and Lance took a wicker love seat facing her.

  Morgan started. “Thanks for talking to us.”

  Tears filled Felicity’s eyes. “I can’t believe Tessa’s dead.”

  “I know.” Morgan reached out and touched her knee. “I’m sorry.”

  Felicity sniffed. “You don’t think Nick did it?”

  “No.” Morgan said in a firm voice.

  “Me either,” Felicity agreed.

  “Why do you say that?” Lance asked.

  Morgan had been concerned with Lance intimidating Felicity, but she didn’t seem the least bit nervous. Just sad.

  The girl pulled her braid over her shoulder and stroked it. “First of all, Nick really liked Tessa, and he treated her real nice.”

  “In what way?” Morgan asked.

  “He was considerate, kind, gentle even.” She chewed on the end of her braid. “I can’t picture him ever hurting a girl.”

  “He fought
with Jacob,” Lance reminded her.

  Anger flashed in the girl’s eyes. “Because Jacob was mean to Tessa. Nick was protecting her.”

  Lance leaned his elbows on his knees. “You don’t like Jacob?”

  “Jacob is an asshole.” Felicity scowled. “If I had to pick someone who would rape—” She paused for a second to press a hand to her mouth and compose herself. “—a girl, it would be Jacob.”

  Morgan’s body tipped forward, as if the girl’s words pulled at her. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because of other things he’s done.” Felicity surged to her feet and paced the gray-painted floorboards.

  “Did he ever do anything to Tessa?” Morgan asked.

  The girl stopped, nodding. “There was this party at the beginning of the summer. I wasn’t there, but apparently Tessa passed out. The next day, she said she’d only had two beers. She was in really bad shape, though, and she didn’t remember much about the party. Then Jacob sent her a picture on Snapchat.”

  “What’s Snapchat?” Morgan asked.

  “It’s an app that lets people share pictures and messages that self-destruct after they’re read.” Lance said. “It was designed to be a way for kids to share things without having to worry about their pictures or messages haunting them on the Internet for the rest of their lives.”

  “So if they were drunk or someone took a photo of them smoking pot, there’s no proof,” Morgan said. “What kind of picture did Jacob send Tessa?”

  A tear rolled down Felicity’s cheek. “She was naked, and he was doing things to her.”

  Lance and Morgan shared a look.

  “Do you know when this happened?” Morgan asked.

  “Around the beginning of July.” Felicity wrapped her arms around her waist. “I don’t remember exactly.”

  Right about the same time Tessa got pregnant.

  “But the pictures on Snapchat are temporary, so they were wiped from Tessa’s phone.” Frustration bubbled in Lance’s chest. Jacob Emerson was a predator, and Lance wanted to nail him.

  “Technically they disappear from your phone.” Felicity took her phone from the back pocket of her shorts and began scrolling. “But I made Tessa take a screenshot. I wanted her to keep a copy because Jacob is such an asshole that it wouldn’t surprise me if he pulled a stunt like this again. I didn’t want Tessa to regret not keeping the pics. But she didn’t want to keep them anywhere her grandparents could see them. She was so embarrassed.”

  So embarrassed that she didn’t go to the police. Humiliation was one of the reasons that only a third of rape victims reported their assaults.

  “I copied the pictures to my cloud account,” Felicity said.

  The police wouldn’t have known they ever existed, even if they got a search warrant for Felicity’s phone. Plus, if Jacob ever got a hold of her phone, he couldn’t delete the pictures.

  “Do you still have them?” Morgan perched on the very edge of her seat.

  “Hold on a minute. I have to download them.” Felicity watched her phone, then handed it over. Then she turned away, as if unable to look.

  Morgan held the phone toward Lance. Even knowing what to expect, the first photo made him suck wind. An unconscious and naked Tessa sprawled on a rug. A fully clothed Jacob knelt between her legs, both hands on her breasts.

  “Hell.” Disgusted, Lance looked away.

  There were four pictures, each worse than the last. Lance gave them a quick glance, then got up and paced to the window. Just viewing the images made him feel dirty, as if Tessa was being violated all over again. The anger that had been building throughout the case went from a simmer to a boil. Jacob Emerson was just seventeen, but Lance wanted to beat the hell out of him for what he’d done to Tessa.

  So much for Jacob’s statement that he thought of Tessa as a sister.

  Morgan lowered the phone and spoke to Felicity. “These pictures are evidence now. I need your phone, and you’ll have to give a formal statement.”

  Felicity nodded. “OK.”

  “Why didn’t you show these to the police?” Lance asked.

  “They only asked me about the last two weeks.” Felicity shrugged. “I didn’t think something that happened a couple of months ago could be important. I guess I should have, but I’ve been so upset since Tessa died. I’m not thinking straight.”

  Damned Horner . . .

  He and the DA had been so positive Nick was their perpetrator, and in such a rush to make an arrest and ensure the public that a violent offender was off the streets before the upcoming election, they’d neglected to fully investigate other suspects. They’d taken clean-cut Jacob at face value.

  Morgan collected the phone, and they left Felicity’s house.

  “Do you think he drugged her?” Morgan asked.

  “There’s no way to prove it.” Lance led the way back to the Jeep. Morgan pulled her phone out of her bag.

  “Who are you calling?” he asked.

  “The DA. We need to have a meeting.” Morgan scrolled on her phone. “We need a DNA sample from Jacob Emerson to see if he’s the father of Tessa’s baby. There are several ways I can make that happen, but frankly, Bryce can do it faster. I have to share any information I uncover in the investigation anyway.”

  The discovery process was a two-way street. The prosecutor had to share all the evidence he intended to present against Nick, but the defense had the same obligation.

  “Do you think he’ll cooperate?” Lance asked as they paused on the sidewalk.

  “If he fights it, there’s a chance the judge would deny our request based on the fact that someone has already been arrested for the crime. Jacob isn’t a suspect. Plus, the fact that he got her pregnant doesn’t mean he killed her, but it would prove he lied. His father knows this and will fight hard to keep us from getting a sample.”

  “But this is new evidence.”

  “Yes, and I’ll get Jacob’s DNA eventually, but I want it to happen sooner rather than later. I want Nick out of jail.” She tapped a finger to her lower lip. “Bryce takes his case to the grand jury tomorrow. If he gets his indictment the same day this new evidence goes public, he’ll look like a fool.”

  “But he can’t put off the hearing.”

  “No, he can’t, and he can still get his indictment, but he’s not going to be happy that Jacob lied. Lying witnesses create reasonable doubt. Bryce doesn’t like to take cases to court he isn’t confident of winning.” Morgan’s focus shifted to her call as she asked for Bryce. “Tell him he’s going to want to see me.” She paused for less than a minute. “Thank you.”

  She lowered the phone. “He’ll see us now.” Confidence gleamed in her eyes.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “For the first time, I think we’ve found a solid flaw in the case against Nick.”

  Thirty minutes later, they parked in the municipal complex and locked their handguns in the glove compartment of the Jeep. Lance followed Morgan to the DA’s floor. His secretary didn’t make them wait. The DA rose as they walked into his office.

  Morgan and Lance slid into two chairs facing the DA’s desk.

  Bryce gave Lance a nod, then turned his laser focus on her. “What is this all about, Morgan?”

  Morgan pulled Felicity’s phone, now in a plastic bag, from her pocket. Through the clear plastic, she tapped on the pictures app and pulled up the photos of Tessa. She handed the phone to Bryce.

  Lance had seen the DA in action in the courtroom. Bryce Walters could compete for an Oscar any day, but even Bryce couldn’t maintain his poker face when viewing the images of Tessa. Lance was relieved when disgust flashed briefly in Bryce’s eyes. Lance had been afraid that personal ambition would make the DA blind to the injustice.

  Bryce set down the phone and dragged a hand across his face. “Whose phone is this?”

  “Felicity Weber’s,” Morgan said. “Jacob sent Tessa these pictures via Snapchat. Tessa took a screenshot but didn’t want to hold onto them in case her gran
dparents saw her phone. Felicity stored the images on her cloud account in case Jacob pulled another similar stunt in the future, either with Tessa or someone else.”

  Bryce sat back. “So what do you want?”

  “I want a DNA sample from Jacob,” Morgan said.

  “Why?” Bryce asked. “Nick’s sperm was found in her body. That’s verified.”

  “These pictures date back to early July,” Morgan said. “Right about the time Tessa would have become pregnant. If Jacob raped her in July and she got pregnant, she could have confronted him that night. That’s motive.”

  Bryce rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “But why kill her? So he got her pregnant? It’s not the end of the world.”

  “Bryce, those pictures show Jacob molesting an unconscious girl. She couldn’t have possibly given consent, while Jacob appears to be in control of all his faculties. If he got her pregnant that night, he raped her. She could have put him in jail.” Morgan gestured to the phone sitting on Bryce’s desk. “Even if he didn’t kill Tessa, Jacob Emerson is a predator. This is a whole separate charge.”

  Bryce’s jaw sawed back and forth, as if his molars—and brain—were grinding away at the evidence of Jacob’s crimes.

  “The press would have a field day with those photos,” Morgan added.

  Anger flared in Bryce’s eyes, but he blinked it away and leaned back. “I’ll have the police bring Jacob in for questioning and obtain his DNA.”

  “I want the test expedited.”

  Bryce shook his head. “I can’t promise that. Even a positive test doesn’t prove he killed her.”

  “You already did it in this case,” Morgan argued. “The presence of lubricant proves that a condom was used the night of Tessa’s murder. Jacob could have raped and killed her without leaving his sperm behind.”

  Bryce crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s a stretch.”